


A New Threat Chapter 1

by jessicaimvisble



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cerberus - Freeform, F/M, Horror, M/M, Magic, Magic Stiles, Were-Creatures, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 00:31:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1367326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicaimvisble/pseuds/jessicaimvisble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott is running a few inches slower then Derek. Scott seems to be moving his mouth. His eyes red with all his teenage alpha-ness. His puppy face contorted and pleading while simultaneously full of rage. Stiles decides hes impressed with it.<br/>Congratulations Scott you look like a mad man. Stiles thinks  to himself. He looks at his friend,but he cant really register what hes hearing. But his brain understands he is being yelled at and is trying desperately to understand why. Scotts mouth, even with it full of wolfy fangs, seems to be yelling “Getup! Run!”<br/>So Stiles, like the good best friend he is, dose what is demanded of him. Or he tries to. He continues to try and push himself off the ground only to feel that something was terribly wrong with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Threat Chapter 1

          

            Stiles is on the ground, trying to push himself up with his arms, it would look like just a normal teenage boy doing pushups in the forest. Nothing to see here, just a kid trying to get a sweet going. Trying to look good for the lady friends perhaps. It would look completely insane and hilarious if he was walking around the woods and just stumbled onto Scott trying to work out in the middle of a wooded area. Except this is not funny. This is really fucking far from funny. Because hes trying to push himself off the ground and he cant remember why. Hes dazed and has tunnel vision and he cant remember _why_. He vaguely makes a thought or has a theory about what happened,

_Maybe one of the pack was out for a run or patrolling and decided to do a surprise check . By tackling me?_

            No, thats not what happened. He thinks he remembers flying. Being thrown a long way. That doesn’t sound like something the pack would do. Not to one of the squishy humans at least. But something is wrong. Because now he can make out yelling, and running. And growling?

            “That’s not one of my wolves?” Stiles chokes out before turning his head to the side, there are indeed, three of his pack running toward him, fully wolfed out. Mouths moving in what looks like a language that Stiles isn’t completely capable of understanding at the moment.

Isaac running closest to Scott. Isaac in one of his stooped dark gray cardigans.

_Hes going to be whining about getting it shredded for weeks. Finding a way to blame me about there being gashes and blood stains in it. Well hes so not going to guilt trip me into cleaning/buying/or fixing it. He wore it. He can deal with it._

            Scott is running a few inches slower then Derek. Scott seems to be moving his mouth. His eyes red with all his teenage alpha-ness. His puppy face contorted and pleading while simultaneously full of rage. Stiles decides hes impressed with it.       

            _Congratulations Scott you look like a mad man._ Stiles thinks to himself. He looks at his friend,but he cant really register what hes hearing. But his brain understands he is being yelled at and is trying desperately to understand why. Scotts mouth, even with it full of wolfy fangs, seems to be yelling _“Getup! Run!”_

            So Stiles, like the good best friend he is, dose what is demanded of him. Or he tries to. He continues to try and push himself off the ground only to feel that something was terribly wrong with him. Stiles looks down quickly scanning his own body only to stop near the end. His leg was bent in a way that legs should never be aloud to bend. Really, it should be against the law.

            Stiles lets out a wordless broken “Huff.” and looks back at his friend almost feeling like hes pleading with them. Derek is closest to him but their still to far away to bring any sort of comfort in the fact that their there at all. Derek looks panicked, like Scott and Isaac, but theirs something else there, he cant read it on his face. Its something Stiles has seen to few times to truly understand or begin to comprehend at this point in time.

            “STILES!” Derek yells.

            Stiles is aware that Derek’s yell is the first one he understands audibly, he understands the panic in his name right before there’s something heavy, clawed and growling on top of him. Or what seems to be the right sharpened front paw of something Stiles really dose not want to look at. The claws are digging into his lower back. Right at the dip of his spine. Right at the base. Stiles is terrified if he moves or struggles something will snap or scrape against his spine and paralyze him. He feels an immense pain and the pooling of blood on himself.

            “Great! Awesome!” Stiles lets out like a pained hiss through clenched teeth.

            The three werewolves stop a few feet away from him all growling and barking and a hole lot of snarling happening. If this had been some sort of dub-step music video this would definitely be where they dropped the base. Yep and Stiles is rethinking every life choices hes ever made, ever. How is it that his brain is able to think anything remotely calm or not panicked at a time like this? It should be in the fight or flight mode that humans developed and evolved with. But instead of thinking he should run or fight back all he can muster is;

            Y _ep. This is happening. Just another Tuesday, nothing weird going on here._

            There’s a crunch, then what feels like three-hundred pound bear is slowly putting more pressure onto Stiles.

            “Fuck!” Stiles screams into the leafs covering the ground beneath him. Hands spread flat by ether side of his head. It kind of looks like hes about to get arrested, you know, if not for the crazy foaming black teddy bear that’s currently trying to brake him in two.

            “Now now Cerberus. The child is only human... mostly.” The monster eases up a little and there’s suddenly a man walking over to where 'Cerberus' is currently pining Stiles. His voice is low and smooth. Like black silk that’s been used to clean up after a murder, several murders, a murder party. His voice was used to clean up after a murder party. He's was probably glad to do it too. Stiles decides he is a creep before even turning his head to the right to see who was controlling the fat beast currently threatening to crush him.

            The man was wearing a half trench coat that seemed to be a dark, deep red. Black smooth hair cut into layer that caught the setting sun in ways humans hair shouldn’t be possible of doing. He had an olive completion but his eyes were pail blue almost white, and they seemed to change colors depending where and what he was looking at. And at that moment he was looking at Stiles. The dudes pupils dilated and expanded like he was trying to absorb all he was seeing of him, crumpled and bleeding on the ground. He smiled at Stiles, pure happiness, like he just opened the best present ever.

            “Hello Stiles.” he rolls Stiles name around in his mouth like its sweat. Stiles cant help but feel disgusted at this stranger saying his name in any matter at all.

            Stiles takes this opportunity to sneer at him. Giving the stranger the most disgusted look he can muster at a time like this. And Stiles thinks he's doing a pretty good job at it, because the creepy guy drops the smile and tilts his head like he is slightly confused by the boys heated stares.

            “Stiles, I'm not here to hurt you or your friends.” The man says smooth as expensive lotion.

            Stiles coughs out an ugly laugh. “Well you are doing an awful job at the not hurting me. I would suggest you quit that job of 'not hurting me or my friends' but if this is 'not hurting' I'd prefer not to know what actual hurting is to something like you Mr. Darth Vader.” He feels like he can use his snarky defense now that Cerberus has backed off his spine a little. Its claws are still digging into Stiles and he can feel the broken bones in his leg now.

            “Let him go.” Scott tries out his alpha voice. It still sounds a little weird to Stiles but he feels hope and relief to be reminded his friends are still waiting for a moment to jump in and save his human ass.

            Stiles looks over to see them completely still except for Derek who’s darting his eyes from the beast to the creepy silky dude to Stiles. Only to pause slightly when he finds Stiles looking at him. Derek seems to be fighting an inner battle with himself, clenching and unclenching his fists, he tightens his jaw and takes a slow step towards him.

Cerberus growls and leans its head down into Stile’s peripheral vision. Isaac, Scott and Derek all seem to growl, stiffen and hold their breath together.

            They are on his left with the thing on top of him leaning its right paw on him with the rest of its body moving to block the path of the werewolves. Its then that Stiles can tell that its not a bear but a giant hound. Not a wolf just a giant meaty dog with a huge bleeding gash on ether side of its head, and its drooling. It looks insane.

            “CERBERUS!” The man says sternly like he's mad or scolding it for getting its head so close to Stile’s vulnerable neck meat.

            The hound shivers like its broken inside and just wants to destroy everything but is denied the one thing it truly wanted in its existence. But it lifts its head away from Stiles and lifts its paw from his back. Stiles lets out a shuddering breath only to be in more pain as the hound drops its bloody paw onto Stiles left arm. Hardly any weight pressing into it but enough to stop him from squirming.

            All of a sudden Vader is kneeling on Stiles right, lifting his now blood stained hoody and tee-shirt to revile the ugly gashes left by the mans beast.

            “What the fuck?” Stiles is trying to squirm away from his touch. The wolves seem to freak and rush foreword all growls and anger. The hound leans onto Stiles arm.

            “AHHHHH! Fuck! Stop moving!” He yells as loud as his pained body would allow. The wolves freeze again but they're all growling in disgusted anger at the intruders violation.

            “Dude really. I'm going to press charges, this is sexual harassment. I'm underage too. You're so going to jail. I bet prison isn’t a nice place for a dude with that silky of hair.” Stiles snares.

            “Arthor.”

            “What?” Stiles blinks. The guy gets a glass jar out of one of his tench coat pockets takes the top off then seems to reach for Stiles wounded, now exposed back. Stiles slaps at the guys hand with his one free arm. “Dude. No touching the merchandise!” Stiles is reworded with more wight being put back onto his arm by the monster dog, and hisses in a shallow breath as Derek lets out a vengeful growl for like the hundredth time.

            “My name; it's Arthor.” The creepy dude is telling him his name?

            “I didn’t ask. Get this mutt off me.” Stiles complains only to freeze as Arthor’s hand seems to smear Stile's blood around. Arthor puts the jar to Stiles side and presses down on him. Stiles doesn’t scream out loud but keeps his mouth shut to keep it in his throat, digging his free arm into the dirt next to him. Only it isn’t dirt. Stiles remembers what he was doing in to forest to begin with; he was collecting protection herbs. And he is currently holding a handful of Mug-wort. Now Stiles is thinking.

            Arthor seems to have gotten what he came for and puts the lid on the jar. Stile looks at it, not moving his hand yet, and realizes the jar is filed with his blood. Hes confused as all hell now.

            “This is all I need for now.” Arthor grins fondly at the glass container then stands and looks down at Stiles, “This would have been a lot simpler if the wolves were more understanding. I went to speak with the Hales a few days ago, to see if there was something I could do or trade for some of your blood.”

            Arthor looks up at Derek with what seems like a thoughtful expression. Derek is growling and heaving, Scott is stuck trying to hold onto him till a better opportunity opens for them to attack. Isaac keeps looking sideways waiting for the go ahead from his alpha. Arthor carefully looks at all of them then back to Stiles.

            “This.” he gestures in a half circle in front of himself. “wouldn’t have happened if he had just let me talk to you. This could have been a lot more reasonable.” Arthor pockets the bloody jar and Stiles is wondering just how much blood he has lost. The hound is still standing on his arm, and Stiles knows he's about to hit his braking point. The adrenalin level in him is dropping leaving him in more and more pain. He is tired from all the nightmares' that keep him up at night and pretending he can cope pretending he can handle anything remotely human. He was possessed not that long ago. Not being able to control his own body , it still feels foreign to him. Like he's constantly grasping for something that’s not solid. And it left a deeper darkness in him then anyone knows, may ever know. And it just twists at him, contorting into anger and rage he keeps trying to push down. But he can feel it now, slithering its way up from the darkness until he'll explode.

            Arthor seems to reed something on his face because he leans down with a knowing smile. And that’s all Stiles needs to confirm his suspicions. Arthor opens his mouth to say something, probably something gloty or evil. Like he won a game of hide and seek. But the moment Arthor opens and inhales to speak Stiles shoves the mug-wort into his mouth and practically shoves his hand down his throat. Deaton had told him magic was more about the believing in it then the actual ritual and Stiles was angry enough at his own helplessness that he could believe in anything as long as it got Arthor away from him. And that is exactly what it did.

            Arthor veers back gagging and choking but when he tries to cough the stuff up it seems to turn into embers, scorching the leaves he was gagging over. Stiles is dumbfounded and probably just as stunned as Arthor. He's to freaked to actually get out from under the stunned hound. Derek on the other hand takes this as the opportunity they were waiting for, he brakes Scotts hold and he slams himself into the mutated dog currently to confused to pay much attention to the werewolves. Derek is all anger and brute force but the hound is four times the size of him. Two times the size of Peter when he had an alpha form. The hound seems to flip its self over and throw Derek a good twenty feet into a tree, Stiles panics but is immediately relieved when Derek gets right back up. Isaac was on the hound, in a flash slashing at the beast, before Derek even hit the tree. Cerberus turns and throws a heavy clawed paw at Isaac, it barely hits skin but totally runes his cardigan. _Called it._ Scott pulled him back at the last second. The dog runs to its master and they just vanish.

            Derek is suddenly crouching protectively over Stiles who keeps trying to move himself but fails every time.

            Derek pushes him down gently. “Stop trying to move.” he says out of gritted teeth.

            “Gee thanks for the advise. To bad I didn’t actually know I should be inside and not wondering around in the forest when there was some pervert trying to get at my bloody parts. If I had known I totally would have stayed home and avoided the hole me getting the holy hell beat out of me again.” Derek kind of freezes after that comment. Stiles was pissed and in a load of pain so he had put as much venom in those words as possible. Stiles tries to push himself up and gives up, flopping himself into the dirt again. Stiles isn’t looking at Derek or Scott whose kneeling over him worried and still wolfed out because Stiles looks like shit.

            “We have to get him to the hospital.” Scott says hurriedly he's doing something on his phone probably calling his mom or Stiles dad. So they’d be prepared for what they were about to see. Derek is taking Stiles hoody off and tying it around Stiles waist to try and slow the bleeding.

            “Why didn’t you just tell me?” Stiles voice cracks as he starts to lose conciseness because Derek has to pick him up and the pain is to much for him. But right before everything goes black he would have sworn he heard Derek whisper half broken; “I'm sorry.”

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: I am a dyslexic young adult! Very dyslexic. So if you are a grammar Nazi or easily irritated by spelling/grammatical errors, well run. Run now and never return. also; I am sorry. so very sorry.)


End file.
